


Salutations

by mikochan_noda, peonydee



Series: A Study of Letters [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: All the tropes you will find in a Romance Novel they are here for your consumption AU, Arranged Marriages AU, Awkward Meetings, Caution AHEAD: tension, Early Adults, Epistolary AU, F/M, Fantasy AU, In Medias Res, Royalty AU, Self-Indulgent, Worldbuilding, elopement, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/pseuds/mikochan_noda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonydee/pseuds/peonydee
Summary: Book I ofA Study of LettersSeriesMari's older sister--heir to the throne and one-half of a crucial political engagement--disappears during a ceremonial trip.Having no choice but to seek help in finding her from the neighboring kingdom she distrusted, Mari writes to long-time penpal, Chat, betting on her hunch that he is actually more than an assistant to the neighboring kingdom's crown prince. But then Chat turns out to be more than Mari bargains for and now her plans---her roles?!---are changing...





	1. Dear

**Author's Note:**

> Started writing this fic around August 2016, it was born out of this [tumblr post](http://c-is-for-circinate.tumblr.com/post/125107660715/so-i-know-how-much-everybody-loves) : _We’ve been communicating entirely by mail for the past year..._ It started out innocently enough, but like all things that came out of long night chats, the story grew out of control. We plan to post five books for this series, even if this is basically a self-indulgent fic to write these two dorks in cosplay flirtation, with a very loose plot mixed in. (map, letters done by [o-deko-ton](http://o-deko-ton.tumblr.com/), sigils by [sheehanmebaby](sheehanmebaby.tumblr.com) | [sharkkkat](https://www.instagram.com/sharkkkat/))

 

 **Figure 1.0 :** A draft copy of " _Coccinelle_ " letter to " _Chat_ " (Source : _Collection of Royal Correspondences, F. Library_ )

===

[chat,

i know this is sudden, but I do not know who to turn to--or trust. if turning to a faceless friend for help is a sign of desperation, then you might be right.

i am.

you might not be familiar with this custom, but it is imperative of the women of a prominent matriarchal line to undergo an annual pilgrimage to Mount Tikki on the anniversary of first blood, their menarche. i am fearing the worse for my mistress, as four days ago, she had singularly disappeared from amidst her entourage, on their way to the red lady’s grotto.

first of all, please be discreet with this information. i implore of your master not to speak of this to anyone, lest it reach your court and cause more harm on each of our parties. i just want him to know that my mistress loves him dearly and that i cannot believe she has ever entertained rescinding their engagement. despite his frequent refusal of her advances, she has always believed that their arrangement is predestined.

this is why i am requesting a favor from you, in great haste: i need an audience with your master, or any trusted lords you would recommend, who might help me in my endeavor to find her [majesty *heavily blotted*]. it is not that i do not trust the people who are tirelessly looking for my mistress, but i know her enough that she might have gone to your master in a fit of impulse.  

i know this might surprise you, but my presence in your court might cause great upheaval. i never intended to deceive you, but i am no mere servant to my mistress. i have always been her closest confidant and her greatest ally. thus i need your help, chat---let us not pretend that you are a mere pageboy, writing your master’s missives. surely you know a noble or two who can hear me out, who can aid my search for my mistress?

you have been the greatest source of comfort for me in my most trying days.

i trust you, chat.

consider this as debt paid for all the horrible jokes i’ve had to endure all these years, and you can ask anything you wish of me.

hope this finds you well,

coccinelle]

* * *

 

Adrien breathed heavily, cradling his aching head with his palms. The thick paper lay in between the space of his propped elbows on the table, his eyes peeking in between his fingers as he re-read what Mlle. Coccinelle had written to him. For six years, they’ve been exchanging letters behind their master’s and mistress’s backs, using their poor wayward pigeon. They’ve been arguing over the most disparate topics, from the age old question of which baking guild makes the best croissants in the continent, to the impossible task of enforcing regional import quotas. They have both asserted statements that could only be supported by the knowledge of someone intimately involved in both diplomatic and interior court matters. Adrien has spent entire days wondering if they would ever have a chance to meet---indeed, if they had already met.

_I trust you, Chat._

May the claw have mercy. Would she even know how those words wrecked every single thought in his already troubled mind? Her heartfelt request was quite simple: permission to conduct a search in his country. Judging from how...her mistress was enamored with his mas--damn, who was he kidding? The Princess of Adarna adored his brother so terribly that their marriage would have been a mere formality. It should be no surprise that her Royal Majesty had learnt of the latest development in the Aelurian court.

And evidently, had already acted upon it.

Three ascending notes came from a lute he didn’t even realize present till they broke into his reverie. Groaning, he pressed his brows to his thumbs.  

“Greetings, good sir.” The amused laughter was not helping the throbbing of his forehead. “I see that I did not need to announce the news from the East?”

“Nino.” Adrien combed his hair agitatedly with a hand. “I am in distress”

“This is really funny. You’re more distressed about meeting your lady love than being touted as the realm’s newest villain.”

“I don’t care about them. Worrying about naysayers never gets the work done. But Ladybug--” He lowered his hands, fingers fidgeting and eyes wandering. “I want to help her. Anything she asks of me, I’ll give, but... I mean, I don’t even know how to escape without plunging the entire world in deeper upheaval.”

“Calm down, lover boy.” To Adrien’s embarrassment, Nino chuckled. “How about I bring them to you instead? I’m pretty sure we can do something to keep things running smoothly---and in secret.”

Adrien glowed like a newly-lit wick.

* * *

 

 **Figure 1.1 :** From " _Chat_ "  to " _Coccinelle_ " (Source : _Archives in LBS, Red Mt._ )

===

[ma coccinelle,

very well, i shall no longer pretend that i am just a rowdy alleycat.

whatever you wish for, my lady, shall be done.

it disturbs me that you---who probably hold a greater station than you have just implied---will be traveling alone, in face of the recent disappearance about which we have many conjectures, but little actual information. i don’t mean to pile more worries upon my lady, but may i send a couple of my trusted men at least? granted you would wait a few days before their arrival at your country’s borders, but i would rather you be safe than be unaccounted for.

and maybe it is too presumptive of me to add to said conjectures, but i believe my master already informed of the Adarnian situation: he has formally announced....his indefinite leave from court.

as things stand, you are right in fearing the spread of such news from and to both our camps---disaster might be an understatement. in all haste, i took valiant effort to process your request; i have acquired you an audience, a few hours in the afternoon within this week with an important lord.

and you wound me extensively even with your sweet words, my lady, in suggesting my aid should come with an exchange of payment.

i ask for nothing, but to meet with you personally, to soothe the long, benumbed dream of admiring your countenance and your counsel from within the confines of the same chamber, whilst sharing the same air, the same piece of earth, one morsel of blessing in this troubled times.

but a wise man would think on such a rare offer more seriously, and i shall strive to not disappoint you.

considering what can be an equal trade,   

chat]

* * *

“What’s with the face, Mari?” Alya beamed from where she sat cross-legged on the window ledge, munching on a lukewarm bun. “Chat said he’ll help, right?”

Marinette frowned at her ink-stained hands. She had yet to touch a scrap of fabric or cooking utensil ever since the vassals started pressuring her older sister, Her Royal Highness, to officially succeed their dearest Mother, the Queen, as soon as possible. As Bridgette took on more of the ceremonial and visible roles in court, Marinette assumed the nitty-gritty, everyday responsibilities they had previously shared. They managed to fill up her every waking moment with some tedious task or another, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure how long she could keep at this pace and not make some grievous error.

An indefinite leave from court? Did the crown prince predict that Bridge would run?  

The only reason Bri held her position as their heir was to solidify her engagement with that constipated fiance of hers. Mari had always been expected to handle all the administrative affairs and pre-approve all of the legal matters before it went under her mother’s-- and recently, Bri’s nose. Goddess knows how much Bridgette loved Félix---the stories were true after all, no matter how much damage control Alya did to make sure it didn’t escalate further. It was such a relief that the masses thought it adorable.  

However, their current situation was not a mere domestic problem that could be solved with a bit of tweaking of court disclosure and well-placed rumors. Marinette knew what the consequences would be once their neighbours, the court of Aelurus, finds out about _this_ . It would be either her head, or worst, _her hand_ at stake in this endeavor.

“Meeting Chat is the sole highlight of my visit. I guess it’s time to put a face on the name.” Mari grabbed a wet sponge to wipe her hands, the scent of ethyl suddenly pungent. ”I just don’t want to meet an Agreste, if possible. You know how they are.”

King Gabriel and his son had really left quite an impression on her.  

“But your little cat worked hard to find you a willing sacrifice!” Alya cackled, wrapping an arm around Marinete, who squawked in surprise. “Cheer up! Lord Dupain can probably do all of this paperwork to help your Mom out, and then we can go right away!”

“Come with me?” Marinette smiled, piling the important signed requests in its awaiting box.

“Of course, I wouldn’t let you go on your blind date alone.”

“ _Alya!_ ”

* * *

 

[chat,

thank you for your offer, but as i have often stressed, i can take care of myself. i’m traveling on the main roads with a  trusted friend.  we want to be discreet with this situation, and a couple of traveling entertainers will not stand out in your city.

you have probably received my letter about two and a half candlemarks after my departure. my mother knows  about my journey and knows i’ll be back to her in a few days, once we’ve arranged for search parties in your realm. she'll know what to do, should she not hear from me periodically as arranged.

but if you insist, i’ll be at the northern gates, just by the caravan pass, by a day after tomorrow, in the afternoon.  

and hush! i’m not going to shame you in front of the noble you have painstakingly got me an appointment with. as just reward for your expert flattery, i shall change to a proper garb worthy of your court before presenting myself.

wearing red for luck,

coccinelle]

* * *

“Nino!”

Adrien shook in excitement, the spooked bird from his shoulder flying to Nino’s waiting wrist.

“She’s wearing _red_!”  His blonde hair sticking out like a haystack, Adrien donned only his breeches as he ran to his desk to get some quill and parchment. “She’s nervous!”

“Yes, like a skittish ladybird should not be a cause of alarm, your silliness. If what she hinted from her letter was true, you should tread carefully.” Nino tutted, rolling his eyes as his friend wrote feverishly. “You’re so enamored with this mystery lady of yours. What shall you do if her visage proves less satisfactory?”

“Her appearance is of no moment,” Adrien said, matching his friend’s mocking tone with an even more reverent one. He ripped the parchment and rolled it quickly. It did not seem to matter to him that only the highest ranking warriors of Adarna were allowed to wear red. “It is her razor sharp mind and stalwart heart I fell for. I shall know her, deep in my bones, when I meet her.”

* * *

 

[my lady,

why am i not surprised that you have the authority to wear red? still, color me impressed, my lady, for your bold choice. i assure you that that noble will quake and defer to you, and shall do your every bidding.

red suits you,

chat]

* * *

“Psst!”

The ends of red-streaked locks brushed against her dark-haired fringe. However, Marinette was quite used to Alya’s head popping upside down from ceilings and windows that she merely brushed it away, before returning to her task at hand.

“Papi’s got a letter.” She flicked the square note to Mari, who caught it with her thimble-covered thumb. Marinette unfolded the paper, and read the short message. Huffing exasperatedly before smiling herself, she turned to her companion who was grinning mischievously.

“Alya, stop that.” She couldn’t help but widen her smile.

“I’ve probed around.” Her wide toothed grin spelt trouble for everyone. “Turns out there was more to his master’s indefinite leave.”

* * *

 

[chat,

i’m constantly amazed at how fast papillion could send our messages. must be the good weather conditions?  

agreste men are infamous for their dismissive countenance. i’m sure they will be outwardly polite for courtesy, but i know that if i breathed too loudly, it would be cause of great offense and severe displeasure. are we going to argue again about how prickish they are, chat? i might as well don full armor before i launch a long verbal siege on the sullen fellow i’ll have the pleasure of bullying.  

i’m five villages away from the capital, and what is this information you have denied me? the crown prince just abdicated his position as heir presumptive a few days ago. how on earth would you have forgotten to tell me that? i’m left wondering if my mistress’s disappearance is related to this current unrest. i will see to it that i grill you to no end on whatever other news you’ve failed to share with me.

and cease sending me letters. we will see each other tomorrow after all.   

hoping to give poor papillion a rest,

coccinelle]

* * *

 

 **Figure 1.3 :** Map illustration of Aelurus and Adarna, circa two years Before Union

 

* * *

 The Great North Road stretched out from the Main Northern Gates of the city Faeles to the northernmost reaches of the kingdom of Aelurus, if not hugging its rugged coast, keeping fairly close and parallel to it. Most of the roads delving to the east, deeper inland into the continent, branched from the Great North Road. Three of these led directly to the only legal mountain passes through the Cat’s Spine, the great range that naturally bordered the northeast of Aelurus.

 Aelurus was nothing but scrupulously well-ordered, with its roads continually maintained and constantly patrolled. Imperial garrisons were found every 10 to 30 kilometers apart along the North Road, ranging from a simple stable and watchtower manned by a squad to a fully armed keep housing a full company.

 Nino Lahiffe found himself atop one of such watchtowers, squinting against the mid-morning sun and hoping he didn’t have to continue on melting under it once it reached its zenith. The watchtower was the highest of the remaining three before the North Road reached the Main Northern Gates of the city, and the northernmost one before the great road started branching to the east. Anyone coming through the mountain passes would have to come by this watchtower, but he had been there since before the sun came up with nary a sight of the bright crimson locks he had come to look forward to seeing. Not for the first time that morning, he wondered if it was really impossible for them to have entirely avoided the guarded mountain passes and circled around to the more crowded coastal roads along the Central Sea.

 Idle waiting wasn’t the problem. He had enough songs to entertain the platoon for a week. He had never known her to be ever not on time, unless she had been caught in a crossfire, caught by an enemy, something life-threatening, and if she were facing something life-threatening while taking care of a package _that_ important....

 His appearance notwithstanding, Nino really was attached to life.

 Before he could truly entertain the consequences of flight, Nino felt a sharp impact to the back of his head.

 “AHHH,” he managed, before swallowing the rest of his undignified scream in relief. Nino was not going to try flying off the battlements today, thanks to the firm hand that caught him by the collar. He glared at the owner of said hand with said gratitude. “Do you have to almost kill me each time?”

 “We’ve been here about three hours now,” Alya Césaire said with some relief, surprisingly echoing the one he just had over not falling down hundreds of feet. “I’ve been looking for any signs of Chat’s men all this time”

 “How did you even get up here?”

 “Never mind how.” Césaire gestured with her head, her vivid hair fluttering against the brisk wind. Behind her was another person, the shadow of a shadow. “When do we get to go down?”

  _‘We?’_

 And then, he saw The _package_ that Alya referred to from her last message.

 Nino could not believe this. He stared at the blue eyes that peered from beneath a grey cowl, that in turn hid a simple crimson dress under its drab cloak. Thank the gods that she at least bore no feather sigils or spots on her, nothing that marked her as more than a royal messenger at most.

 But Miss Ladybug probably didn’t count on him knowing Césaire---and who she worked for.

 “Césaire,” he pleaded, his arms flailing helplessly. “You should’ve known better...”

 “Okay, if you don’t want anything to do with this---” _Ow_ , that finger poke on his throat was going to bruise. “How about you show us the quickest way to the door and make this happen?”

 The girl spoke haltingly, her accent thick as she turned to Alya, her stare on him suspicious.  

 “Who...is this?”

 “One of my contacts, Nino.” Alya replied without taking her sights off him.  “Your pet cat is probably too busy and had Nino scouting for us. I’m not surprised. He’s got a lot on his paws right now.”

 “Contact is an understatement.” Nino snorted as he nodded to the girl, whose fidgeting was giving away her unease at the moment.  “I’m more blown over at how amazing you are in handling this mess, Césaire. This is either hilarious or prematurely beckoning the dragon’s rapture. ”

 The blue eyes sharpened. _Good_ , Nino was not going to play dumb. He knew who she was.

 “It’s high time you stop being a spectator and help me pull out our chestnuts from the open flame.” Her red-stained curls bounced behind her, as she stomped her foot.

 Man, he had really forgotten how impatient she was.

 “I don’t know, last time I heard, fraternizing with foreign spies and--”

 He received an elbow jab to his side, while the lady startled at his words.

  “--plotting behind the crown have consequences? I’m attached to my vocal cords, so I’d rather avoid nooses, axes, or guillotines.”

 Nino had something more to say, but the lady in red grabbed Césaire sideways and began speaking quickly in that Adarnian language of soft syllables and harsh consonants.

 “What do you mean plotting behind the crown? Alya, I thought you said this was a good idea? Am I supporting treason? Am I here to support a claim to the throne of a foreign country? I just want to look for Bri! Don’t tell me Chat blindsided me?”

 “Relax, Mari. Nino’s really an old friend.” Alya responded in Aelurian, one hazel eye trained on him while patting her charge’s agitated back. “He’s a traveling bard with jokes so ridiculous he should be the jester of the royal court instead. It’s something figurative. You’ll see.”

 “You told me Chat is trustworthy. That’s why I never asked for his identity!”

 “Hey, you told me the secret identity situation was exciting!”

 “It will be fine, Miss Coccinelle.” Nino tipped his hat in reassurance. “Chat only wants to help you. ”

 Coccinelle bristled, then gaped, when she realized that he was speaking in her language. He then slowly bent at his waist, and offered his elbow to accompany her on the way. They both knew it was not wise to expose one’s back to a ladybird, but he’d rather be spending his entire afternoon on her good side than have to be on constant vigilance, even though Césaire was there to vouch for his credibility.

 When the lady only gave him a small nod and walked in front of them, he accepted her quiet acknowledgement.

 “This is ridiculous.” Nino muttered, as he straightened and followed her a few steps behind.

 “I’m fairly sure this is a better arrangement than the previous one.” The spymaster’s quiet footsteps were now falling beside his; she spoke in a Southern Aelurian dialect. “We basically have the two most reasonable and practical people between these two kingdoms poised to discuss matters reasonably and practically.”

 “May the claw smite me, Alya. Can you blame me for worrying? The last time this happened, it was a disaster.” Nino groaned, not minding how she just wrapped her arm around the crook of his elbow. It was a relief that she still felt comfortable enough with him to do that. “I just don’t want to be around the fallout this time around.”

 ===

In the end, the lady proposed to take a ride on one of the caravans that were each carrying a half-ton of barley and wheat to the northern entrance of Faeles. Nino truly admired their adherence to being as low-key as possible, choosing it over the comforts of a carriage. Alya only snorted, quipping that “Mari” was nothing but a perfectionist, especially during covert situations.

With the ease Alya had mentioned that little tidbit, it had probably happened quite a lot in the past.

The path to Faeles was going to take two candle marks at most, which prompted their resident bard to pluck a few strings and sing. Alya sometimes sang or tapped a wooden box to accompany him. Mari took it upon herself to take out her sewing materials, letting the white bone needle swim on a sea of cotton, mending one of Alya’s dark mesh shirts.

As the teamster navigated one of the steepest road curves, Mari finally spoke to Nino, eyes on cloth, words soft and lilting in an unfamiliar tongue.

“Are we going to meet with Chat on the way?”

“He’s making preparations for your arrival.” Nino curbed the urge to whine. The absolutely smitten cat was insufferable throughout the whole morning, garnering confused looks from everyone when he asked for every nook and cranny of the Eastern Wing to be filled with perennials. “Honestly, he should pay attention to where he’s walking. He nearly fell from the stairs three times already..”

“A cat is getting distracted by a bug?” Alya poked Mari with a sly grin.   

“Alya, Chat is a close friend.” Mari laughed.  “His flirtations aren’t serious.”

Maybe he could ask Alya to take his instrument and hit him on the head? Nino had many lutes at his disposal. He knew this Ladybug would not entertain any suitors at the moment, but she probably had no inkling that was going to change once she knew who she was meeting.

Once they had caught the dark towers of granite and basalt at their peripheries, Mari squinted at how the black and green banners were becoming more frequent at their path. They were taking one of the main roads, rather than the more discreet passes to the castle.

“We’re taking the _Main_ Northern Gates?” Mari looked at the two of them in surprise, when she saw the heavy latticed-grills of steel at the distance being raised slowly. “I thought we would go through the postern gates?”

“By now, at least five people have probably informed him of your arrival, Mari.” Alya was now re-knotting her soft gauntlets over her wrist. “Chat must have been worried about Bri’s disappearance. Besides, you couldn’t possibly hide from their scouts. With the sudden displacement of the country’s succession line, you better believe they’re on high alert.”

“And don’t worry, Coccinelle , they don’t know who you are,” Nino offered after a single quick strum. “They only know that you are an important lord’s guest with me around. Probably part of his favourite troupe?”

“She’s pretty talented in performing yoyo tricks.” Alya grinned. “ Cats like swinging toys.”

“I take it you know Alya’s love for dodging knife throws?” Mari ignored her.  

“And her terrible sense of timing.” Nino agreed. “Stop being giddy, Alya.”

“Give me a break. I’ve been waiting for a very long time.”

The wind snapped a large black banner to full view, its corners lined in green. The Agreste sigil---a great black dragon outlined in green, with his large, slitted lime-green eyes overlooking the waves---fluttered to them in greeting.

Mari hissed.

“ _Alya._ ”

“Hm?”

Mari’s lips thinned in irritation as the sigils became more frequent in every corner of the stronghold.

“He’s making me meet _a royal member_. The sigil outlines are becoming more prominent.”

“Chat did say you’d be meeting someone important?”

“If the man is familiar with the main family, it could be disastrous for us.” She whipped around to face Alya, who put two placating hands in front of her. “This is a matter of secrecy. Once the King..” She bit her lip, cutting herself off immediately.

“Mari, you practically outra--”

“Sh!” Mari jerked her head to Nino’s direction, as well as to their driver. “I hoped not to use that until we had Chat’s backing. I am not here to threaten anyone.”

“I thought you’d do anything to find Bri? Look, Mari, this is probably quicker than asking one lord in the land to search. If you’re given warrant to override any protestations from _all_ lords to conduct a quick search, then this is better, right?”

She opened her mouth, shut it quickly, then bared her teeth.

“Fine.” She growled, fist trembling. “ _Fine._ ”

"Welcome," Nino sang nonchalantly as they passed the shadows of the gates, “to Faeles.”

"Right," Marinette said tightly, eyeing the intimidating outer walls of the fabled city by the sea. Her eyes lingered on the series of staircases and doors, even curiously observing the men that emptied the caravan’s load of crops on the granaries. Still, their ride went through all the security with no trouble at all, even receiving congenial smiles whenever Nino greeted the soldiers by name.

The wagon went further up, its presence becoming a stark contrast to the fancier sections of the city. Ladybug had her hands curled, gripping her skirts as her eyes flitted from one sigil to another in passing each house. When they passed through the final wall, the inner Citadel, emblazoned in the glorious green and black of the royal standards...

The empty caravan stopped in front of an ornate wooden door, its knobs covered in intricate carvings of open-mouthed dragons.

“Sir.” It was no mistake--even if she was breathless, Mari was furious. “Nino.”

This was the one place in this entire country that Marinette had vowed never to go into.

Mari knew that the double doors would lead to the courts, to where the royal magistrate sat, judging by the amount of ornate gold and emerald tapestries hanging from the walls. The sentries were not looking at how oddly their group was made: a wandering bard, her spymaster pretending to be a singer, and her red-clad self, pretending to be a royal messenger from the Queen of Adarna.

Granted that all classes of the Aelurian citizenry went through these doors freely to ask for representation, for the King to hear matters that troubled the masses from all over the land.

Yet the Faeles protocol for international matters like border disputes, appeals on a local judge’s ruling on civil and criminal cases of non-citizens, and any international security issues, went first through the appropriate embassy.

Mari should have first gone to Theo, the Adarnian ambassador to the Agreste court.  

But it seems Chat was powerful enough to garner her a meeting within hours of her request, without going through the formal motions.

“Tell me, Nino.”

She glared at the banners as if she could set them on fire with her stare. No one was more powerful than the King, except...

“Am I meeting the Crown Prince?”

Make that a private meeting, as she noticed the absence of people that would usually occupy an afternoon filled with court hearings.

“Yes.” Nino did not want to pretend any longer. “Lady Cheng.”

“I see.”

It makes sense, Mari thought even as she straightened her spine. It absolutely made sense.

“Hey,” she heard Nino’s low voice asking Alya. “Is this how Mari really is?”

“Don’t you dare run, Nino.” She could hear someone’s neck being scuffed. “We’ll get to see how cats get skinned from front row seats.”

She took the hood of her cloak and held her chin high, as her current monicker, Mari the messenger, rang in the halls along with Nino and Alya’s names.

If the second daughter, Princess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, could intercept the letters for the first Adarnian princess, then why would not the second son, Prince Adrien Agreste, be in great confidence of the first Aelurian Prince, allowed to handle his correspondence as well?


	2. Dearest

The first thing she noticed when she entered the hall was the sweet fragrance of autumn perennials.

 _Good_ , Marinette thought, _it’s what you’d smell in a funeral._

However appropriate it felt to skin a certain mangy cat, practical politics told her that killing naive, innocent heir presumptives would be frowned upon by all nations. No matter how rewarding it would be to subdue one of the greatest countries in the One Continent, wiping that smug grin off His Royal Highness’s face with her fist would be considered bad form.

She stood fifteen steps away from the raised dais where he was seated. Her gaze met sea-green eyes, a sunlit surface that did not betray the currents underneath the calm till she moved---was he intimidated by the ice in her stare or just distractible? He fixated on her slim fingers as they slowly rose to the clasp at the base of her throat. Gently, she unfurled and collected her cloak, and set it on her arm.

His smile faltered as he swallowed nervously.

Marinette might be in her enemy’s territory, but the ball was in her court.

“Your Royal Highness.”

She inclined her head for a sharp nod, lips in a straight line, not necessarily curtsying. Custom demanded that a foreign guest need not bow. Protocol demanded that he speak first.  

But she was no longer playing as a mere messenger now.

“Thank you for hearing me, despite the short notice.”

“You look _purr_ ty in red, My Lady.”

( _You’re dead, man_ , Nino stage-whispered, a tolling bell in the tomb-like silence.)

Marinette couldn’t help it---she laughed. It felt a bit maniacal even to her. Her eyes probably screamed _danger_.

“Do I?” Her sandaled feet took a few more steps, till she was close enough to see the detailed embroidery of the insignia on his emerald silk sash wrapping from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist. His infamous saber hung from the same hip.

It was no secret that despite---or perhaps, because of?--- the arrogance that rolled off their very stances, Agreste men were quite a sight to behold. King Gabriel and Prince Félix were the living testament to that. They were beautiful and intelligent men, their light coloring reminiscent of the sun-touched seas whence they made their wealth, and Marinette could appreciate them at that aspect, at least.

And here was Adrien Agreste, who took on the responsibility of representing the Agreste House on far-flung territories of Aelurus. In a country with a recluse king and a crown prince regent who could not be pinned down or bothered, Adrien did all the legalities. He authorized all the treaties and acted as the royal magistrate. He had built a reputation as a shrewd and ruthless politician, especially apparent in how the Nations across the Great Sea could not even set foot on the southern archipelagoes unarranged without violating at least ten policies and a fleet of ships under his command breathing down their necks.  

It was remarkable that someone quite accomplished, someone she respected from afar, could look so...

 _soft_.

He couldn’t even hold a poker face, unlike his older brother. His own delight was infectious, emotions transparent and naked all over his face, even though he tried to simmer it with a polite, shy smile. Marinette might be not unused to the admiration of men; she is a princess, after all. But she had always seen them as vultures who would underestimate her as a mere bargaining chip, used to strengthen the ties between minor clans. Even with all the authority she held at her country, she knew that she could only wield her power from behind the curtains.

Yet as she stood before him, in a simple red frock, out in the wide, almost empty courtroom, she felt powerful enough to make the world kneel to her.

She had the attention of this young dragon with no fangs, who seemed more of a pleased kitten that had just discovered a twine of yarn, instead of a scion to a strong-armed monarchy.

“I heard you were quite distracted today, _kitty_.” Marinette drawled the nickname, as she drew out a small smile of her own, as she tilted her face upward, standing in front of the steps of his gilded seat. “Care to tell me why?”

At least five protocols had been broken by now---approaching the ruling monarch without any prompting, for example---but it seemed not to matter when she took the first step, and another, and another...

Three paces away and she could see how the muscles on his jaw ticked, how his breathing slow and deepened, anticipating for her to come nearer.

That was the first time Marinette Dupain-Cheng met Adrien Agreste.

But the first thing that Coccinelle had learned about Chat: he was an impatient cat.

It was Chat who stood up from his throne and walked to meet her halfway. It was Ladybug who raised an eyebrow and quirked her lips, raising her hand as if to remind him of the unspoken dare from his letters: _you said you’d do my bidding, kitty_.

It was Chat who bent from his waist, gently took her hand, and pressed a kiss against her bare knuckles. It was Ladybug who felt his rough sword calluses, the swell of it on his right thumb pressing on her palm, feeling the warmth of his breath against her skin, the heat traveling up her arms and seeping down her chest.

It was Chat and Ladybug who stood frozen in the middle of the stairs, after an outright offense on royal decorum, staring at each other with open mouths moving in silent laughter.

Someone coughed. Like someone hacked their entire lung out.

Startled, their hands and gazes broke, each one quickly drawing away.

“Nino.”

The bard cleared his throat. “Your Highness.”

“ _Nino._ ”

“This is Alya Césaire,” The man pointedly ignored her scowl. “Lady Mari’s...companion.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mme. Césaire.” The Prince nodded, as he thoughtfully led Marinete to the floor by the pads of their fingers, and returned his hand back to his side, stretched and balled it into a firm fist, as if to compose himself.

“I don’t think my name should catch the interest of a prince.”

“Your information network is the envy of all five continents.” Adrien held his smile, as if it wouldn’t be gone for quite some time. “I have no inclination to be careless and disregard your prowess.”

Alya flashed a toothy grin. “He’s good.”

“Stop flattering her. She’d be insufferable later.” Nino glowered, his hand shooing them off towards the door that lead to the open gardens. “Besides, don’t you have something to discuss? You’ve got only a couple of hours before Lady Sancoeur hauls you off the court to the council room.”

* * *

Despite Nino’s warnings on keeping unreasonable expectations, Adrien did expect Coccinelle to be beautiful. He could not ever expect any less of her. How could he?

What he didn’t take account for was that she would be _breathtaking_. Her bright eyes were the exact shade of cornflowers in spring, of the crisp, cloudless summer sky at sea. Pale-skinned, with an endearing sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of her button nose, she reminded him of colored sugar he loved on top of frosted cakes. And the newly budding rose of her lips, the curve of her cheeks, like crisp apples he could just bite into-- he could go on and on describing how absolutely she bewitched him. He might just usurp Nino’s job and compose serenades...

That was not a bad idea. Maybe he should try it sometime.

Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like how to break the sudden awkward silence that settled between them. They stood apart at an arm’s length, their gazes fixed on some distant point, while looking at nothing. He could feel his palms dampen with sweat, and he tried not to fidget, knotting his fingers together at his back, trying to ignore his pounding heartbeat that drowned out his thoughts.

It was much easier to come up with wisecracking replies on a piece of paper. Never had he felt so inadequate at summing up what he wanted to say to her in words. All he could come up with came in a fountain of half-thoughts and disjointed words. In multiple languages.

“Your highness,” she started, his mother tongue on hers sounded like a song.

“Adrien, please,” he corrected. Then he couldn’t help but stretch his lips to a lazy smile, before turning to her, stopping their leisurely pace. “Princess.”

She scowled, and crossed her arms on her chest. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I remember the scolding that I got when I called you that for the first time. _Chat, that’s how your master calls my mistress! Our letters got mixed up--_ ”

“Quiet, you! I think even the Prince stopped calling Bri ‘Princess’ after the third letter. It was risky to address each other as such with carrier pigeons.” She waved her hand, as if to swat away his ever pleased smile. “If I knew how much trouble you would cause me, I would’ve brought my wires with me to strangle you.”

“As I’ve always told you, My Lady,” He winked, eyebrows waggling. “You can attempt to tie me up anytime. I don’t promise to keep my hands…to keep still when you do.”

“ _Chat._ ” She squeaked, before glaring at him with a scowl. “I can’t believe you can even rule a country with that atrocious mouth of yours. How did you manage the Southern quells from retrieving the refugees? Did you sweet talk them to death?”

“I’m ecstatic that you know of my exploits, Lady Cheng.”

Her cheeks twitched, as if to stop a smile. “Marinette.”

“Well, Princess,” He laughed at her warning frown. “I might be able to win battles with swords and my words, but I can never win a war against you.”

“Be careful, tomcat.” She raised an eyebrow and quirked her hip to the side. “I might draft a declaration.”

“Of your conquest? When you’ve already conquered me?”

Another booming cough came from behind, followed by a loud smack against someone’s head.

Their chaperones were probably having the time of their lives watching the calm, collected Prince use his infamous pacifying skills in winning over this fascinating woman. All her silent warnings, from her gaze, to the tilt of her smirk -- Adrien had known, once he realized who he was dealing with earlier, that he was courting disaster.

Aelurus and Adarna are now in the center of a political turmoil, with both of their heir apparents missing. Naturally, he and Marinette were both expected to take their siblings’ places. Now, it would be truly convenient if...

No, he refused to let that thought take form. They had more important things to discuss.

Adrien still had a pair of troublesome royals to deal with.

“My older brother has also gone missing the day after his abdication. Once I’ve learned of your sister’s disappearance, I knew there was a possibility that they might already be together somewhere along the Cat’s Spine border.” He inhaled deeply, gradually putting his hands at his sides, needing his arms where he could easily raise them in defense, if she ever decided to attack him.

“Wait,” she snapped. Adrien would probably never get tired at her expressions. They shifted so quickly; just now they morphed from confusion, to surprise, and now to suspicion.“You’ve already deployed search parties for Bridgette, even before I got here.”

“I thought that it would please you if I acted in haste, my Lady.” He softened his smile, before putting a hand across his chest and bestowing her a bow. “You implied that it was an emergency.”

He did not dare look up until he released her, lest he perish from the gaze that bore through his skull.

“Then,” a tenuous pause, “what am I doing here, sir?”

“Don’t you like my company, my lady?”

“I think under these circumstances, my private opinions are of no importance, my lord.”

“On the contrary, these remarkable circumstances lend your Highness a certain amount of power otherwise reserved for one of more elevated rank?”

Adrien watched his lady digest his suggestion. Her eyes darkened first at the hint she should take matters into her own hands, before they widened, filled with a certain hungry light at the realization that she was, indeed, in the position they had only written to each other about wistfully.  
  
_If it were up to me…_

Marinette most likely could now see how sly the kitten was to have her caught in his trap. A trap she had practically volunteered to walk into.

“Well played, _chaton_ ,” she said. Her blue gaze scrutinized his smirking face, knowing as he did that it was his only chance to draw her out to this country. She had told him often enough of her distaste for anything to do with Aelurus except for legal matters. Alya was likely along for that very reason.

“So what’s the real reason you have lured me here?”

“What?” It was Adrien’s turn to frown at her in confusion. He thought she had already figured out his motives the moment she recognized him. Wasn’t that why she worked so studiously to keep him at bay, when in their letters she had essentially invited him to seek her out in the even wilder mountains of eastern Adarna? “Did not my lady come here of her own volition to seek her ‘mistress’?”

“But you let me. You could have told me one of your ‘masters’ had already directed search parties to sweep the Cat Spine for our irresponsible master and mistress. You could have saved me the travel.”

Things were not proceeding as Adrien imagined at all. The wild hope that had surged in him when she promised to don red, the disbelieving stab of sheer ecstasy he felt when he recognized _the_ Alya Césaire in her company, was suddenly throbbing in his chest, struggling to remain like a dying ember. Everything was going wrong.

“Would you have really waited in Fenghuang without doing anything directly yourself?” he challenged. “Would you have sat there patiently, hoping others will find the political will you have never found all your years of catching the overflow of work from beneath their privileged feet?”

“Touché. And now you have me here. The only remaining heir presumptive to the throne of Adarna. What concessions would you force from my hand? Tell me. I don’t promise to be in the signing mood, but at least grant me the opportunity to rally my defenses.”

“I just really wanted to hear your voice!” he blurted out in desperation. “Rally your defenses…. Coccinelle, I didn’t lead you here so I can swindle you into releasing Aelurus from the Union.”

Marinette blinked. Then flushed horribly.

“Wha-what vy hoice-” She stumbled, mixing her consonants all together. “Hear my voice?”

“You...you said that you don’t really like to come here because you have a horrible Aelurian accent.”

“I ah, what, you what---” The princess had her hand still clutching her face, but it didn’t hide how closely her face matched her dress. “So. You heard. I go home. Now.”

“Don’t! I mean, it’s too cute! I mean, it’s perfectly fine. My High Adarnian sounds like a dying animal. Please don’t be embarrassed.”

“T-thank you?”

“Would you like to stay for a while...so you could...?” Adrien could not even say what he really wanted to propose. No, no, that was a wrong choice of words, and that was moving too quickly. But he was not going to lie and say that he did not entertain the idea. “Could you…”

“Yes?”

That hopeful expression of hers was going to be the death of him someday.

“Could you revise some treaties with me?”

Adrien heard a strangled cry from somewhere behind the hedges covered in golden rods.

_DID HE JUST ASK HER TO REVISE TREATIES WITH HIM?_

_Alya, will you just shut up? You’re ruining--_

_AT LEAST INVITE HER TO TEA. WALK AROUND THE GARDENS? HOW ABOUT DINNER?_

If it were possible, he could have rivaled the color of Marinette’s face, with the way he felt the heat emanate from his cheeks and seep through his neck, until he could feel his ears tingle from embarrassment.

Everything had become blissfully quiet after a brief scuffle. Not wanting to even know what Nino did to make Alya quiet, he picked up the conversation as if there had been no interruptions.

“That,” Adrien cleared his throat. “That one about standardizing transportation tax by weight. It seems awfully unfair to the Adarnian lowlanders. Since, uh...mostly you transport livestock and, and, and...quarrying stuff?”

“Marble?”

 _May Plagg destroy him now_ , as Marinette’s disbelieving stare clearly turned into a devious smile. She was scheming something.

“Yes, marble.” He nodded, a nervous hand inching to the back of his head. “Marble is heavy.”

And the god of destruction might have heard his prayers, when she ultimately ruined him with a playful grin.

“Chat.”

His lady leaned in, enough for him to individually count the rose speckles on her nose.

“Would you like to talk about treaties over dinner?”

“You...You mean, later? Really?” He dropped his arm, then without any preamble, took her hand in excitement. “You’d stay for the night?”

“I can stay for a few nights.”

To his delight, her hand wrapped around his in response.

“There’s plenty of treaties to look at?”

Adrien finally laughed in relief, pulling her to the lime-covered walk that led to the new flowerbeds.

“Come on, I have to give you a tour for an hour, before we have dinner, as my guest.”

“A tour?”

“Yes, you said I’ll never guess your favorite flower! But now, maybe it’s _mari_ -.”

Ladybug groaned, followed by two others on the other side of the sedum bloom hedges. .

“-gold.”

Chat smirked.

* * *

“Can you believe this?”

Alya dove face first to the luxurious white linen sheets, the duvet still warm to touch when she rubbed her cheeks against it. The heated pans were probably just slotted beneath their canopy bed before their arrival. And judging from the fragrant lemongrass that wafted through her sensitive nose, their baths were also carefully drawn and prepared as well behind the screen doors.

“We don’t pamper ourselves at home, you know? Holy Tikki, Mari stop scowling so much.”

“Language, Alya.”

“Can you just relax and enjoy all this as a vacation?”

The huge disparity between their families became apparent with the size of her room, an area that could have covered three offices back at their little manor. Despite being part of the royal family, Marinette was raised like the rest of the people of Adarna, who took great pride in frugality and honest work. As a slowly thriving country, most of their living were acquired through service to some of the richest people in the continent. Her fellow citizens were unfazed by displays of opulence, preferring to live in modesty.

She grew up first in the kitchens, where she was expected to make her own food before the day started. Along with Bri, they both learned how to create their own buns, till their interests deviated. Marinette had a short apprenticeship under the best seamstress in the country, while Bri had a brief stint of working in an apothecary. When they took on their respective roles as princesses, their education expanded to learn languages and to travel beyond the Cordillera. Her people were all literate, well-fed and skilled, but the opportunities given to her were considered a privilege.

Marinette carefully opened the intricate carved vanity closet, where she discovered a bundle of  pastel-colored silk dresses and ribbons folded and neatly filling the drawers to the brim.     

“If that cat thinks he can impress me with this, then he’s gravely mistaken. ”

Alya rolled to lie down on the bed with her belly, then flicked her wired spectacles with her index finger, to settle them back on the bridge of her nose. With a hand on her chin, she prepared herself for Mari’s endless litany that usually capped the day, so the poor girl could go to sleep exhausted.

“He could’ve invited me to his castle, instead of tricking me.”

“Which you would have outright refused, and done as well, for the sixth time.”

“And his smooth talking! He’s an incorrigible flirt. In real life!”

“Believe me, Mari.” Alya pulled her lips back, showing her teeth. “The prince might be a popular face for the ladies, but he never paid any special attention to anyone, much less to have even a whiff of a rumor of holding a private conversation with any noblewoman except his mother.”

“That’s even _worst_ , Alya! You mean that’s how he interacts with ladies?”

“With the girls he’s attracted with? Probably.”

Mari stared at Alya with wide eyes.

Then she grabbed a pillow, stuffed her face in it, then let out a muffled scream of frustration.

“It’s not like he’s going to propose an engagement...”

Marinette inhaled deeply in relief.

“..yet?”

Another muffled scream, this one cracking at the end.

“What’s your problem? You like him.”

Mari finally stopped trying to suffocate herself with the pillow.

“You knew I was dilly dallying with someone I’ve told you I never want to associate myself with.” Marinette glared at the traitor. “Getting a kick out of humiliating myself in front of an Aelurian Prince!”

“First of all, it is wrong to stereotype Aelurians when you’ve only met like, three people from their country. Second, you did tell me once that you’d rather have Bri engaged to Adrien than Félix, when you salivated over his sly maneuverings and his rock-solid policies in the Southern Archipelagos.”

Alya suddenly did the unthinkable: she clasped her hands and mimed a swooning girl, as she often saw Bri do when she talked about Félix.

“ _Look at this Alya! Adrien’s practically brilliant! And he’s around my age! Look, he probably got a stick in his ass, but his--_ ”

Marinette roared and pummeled Alya’s head with her pillow.

“I did _not_ do that!”

“ _Yes_ you did!”

“That was _one_ time!”   

“Once or twice? I counted, Mari. He can keep up with your thirst for verbal contests. He has a sunflower-child personality, and his face is the least of your problems.”

“I thought you’d be more thinking how this could risk our international relations and national interests! What if they have a hidden agenda?”

“Thank the goddess that I’ve already scanned the entire room to be free of bugs, Mari. You should be careful of what you’re saying.”

“Like what, plotting behind the monarchy? By throwing them together and hope they make babies?”

“Ooh, you’ve already guessed my own agenda?”

“No. Alya. _No._ ”

“He’s an Agreste.” Alya dragged the last vowel out, twirling a lock of her copper hair with a finger.

“Thank you for that vital information, my loyal subject.”

“Quit with the sarcasm, Mari. And you’re a Dupain-Cheng.”

“Alya!”

“I’m just saying!” She winked, before wiggling her eyebrows. “Don’t play coy with me. He’s absolutely charmed with you that I’d be surprised if he doesn’t pop up with the permission to court you anytime soon. Well, formally, that is. He’s already started years ago with those letters, Mari. He’s pretty passionate about you, and it looks like it’s not all lip service.”

“Stop it, Alya. We have Bri to worry about!” Mari protested, wrapping her braid into a bun at the top of her nape. “I am not the one who’s going to marry for political interest. I thought we already discussed that I’m going to be leading the frontlines in pushing those Northerners out of our country. I can’t marry a toothless kitten if I want to win against an impending invasion!”

“Who said he was toothless? Judging from what I’ve seen, he just barely showed his fangs today. Are you conveniently disregarding the fact that he’s the best swordsman in the continent?”

“I don't need one swordsman. I need a military commander that can scare off those northern pirates! And please, where are his fangs? He nibbled all over my hands and all I felt were his baby gums.”

“You can be his teeth. No one needs to know he doesn't have his own.”

“Alya--!”

“He'll be wearing his fearsome Agreste reputation, wielding the fearsome Aelurus treasury and navy. Then, you'll be free to maul your mutual enemies, with you becoming his own fangs and claws.”

“..... it's not gonna work, Alya. Why are we even talking about like this is a possibility? Besides my loyalty is to Adarna. I have my own talons to wield, and though my wings are clipped, they will be shelter to the people I need to serve and protect.”

“Who says that you can’t work together to keep all of these troubles at bay? Admit it, even if we find those two -- who by the way have already eloped by this time and we won’t ever see them again, not if Félix wills it -- you would still end up meeting as you essentially both employ yourselves as their private secretaries.”

Alya was now sitting on the bed, her hands on her waist, glaring at her obstinate friend.

Oh Lady Red, was it wrong to wish for Marinette’s happiness? She’d been working so hard, and despite Mari’s hidden tactical acumen in regards to military and large-scale politics, the princess’s skills languished, encumbered by boring paperwork and limited authority.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was meant for greater things.

And in order to accomplish all she was meant to, she needed command of men at a greater scale, earn the highest esteem all around the world and not be snubbed for representing a nation perceived poorer and less esteemable. She needed the means to properly utilize the resources of Adarna, in order to overcome the financial difficulties they’ve met in cultivating their wealth of arable lands and exploring the extent of their mines.

Marinette’s silence spoke volumes. Alya knew she hit a nerve, knew how unsatisfied Mari was with endlessly doing the bone-crushing de-facto work without having a say on how she wanted things done.

“Don’t you have your own room?“ Mari sighed, defeated. “Do you need an official expulsion?”

Alya giggled.

“No need, Mari. I can see my way out. I’m just tiring you so you’d not spent your night overthinking and losing sleep.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Alya tightly embraced her. “Think about it. I’m not throwing you to the predators. And if you ever need a way out, I can slither you out of this mess faster than you can even ask me.”

“Thanks.” Mari pressed a kiss to her cheek, before snickering. “Okay, fine. He’s cute.”

“See?” Alya crinkled her nose in distaste. “If horrible punners are your type, who am I to dissuade you? At least, he’s a prime trophy husband that’ll be the envy of all the living. I’d wager he’ll be an indulgent bedwarmer any woman would kill to have.”

“Alya.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep. It seems there’s a bard I need to entertain.”

“Get out!”

* * *

Chat Noir, Marinette mused as they ate their supper in silence, reminded her of a peacock.

Granted he still had those adorable feline habits, like preferring to lounge in places that had plenty of sunshine. Or after spending hours over paperwork, stretching luxuriously with his tongue peeking out the corner of his lips. Or curiously nibbling on the corner of a piece of sweet bread a few times, before eating it all in one bite when no one is looking.

Her face flamed. The fact that she even knew _all_ those inconsequential details....

The peacock comparison came to her when she realized what Chat was doing.

Blaming Alya for planting the seeds in her mind, Marinette started her careful assessment of her generous host. She was flustered to discover that Chat truly wanted to stay by her side during her entire stay, even asking his personal attendant, Lady Sancoeur, to lessen his workload as much as possible.

He had spent her entire three days with her, subtly trying to change her abysmal impression of Aelurus. To her surprise, instead of the usual showboating that an Aelurian loyalist would have done, Chat accompanied her in exploring the castle grounds, letting her experience what made the citadel home for him.

For example, Chat absolutely loved to fill his halls with music, and did so for every possible moment of her visit, just because she said it made her feel more comfortable. Or how he knew every person in his abode by name, asking about their children and health before introducing them to her. How he could saunter to the kitchens and sneak out a croissant for her, wanting her to judge if it passed her standards. How he shared a bowl of thick beef stew with her in the middle of a recess. How she discovered one flower stalk (today was a white-spotted toad lily) before her door every morning, with a note asking _is this your favorite?_

Alya was right. Even if they did find Bri and Félix...

Blue eyes fluttered and stared at the crackling flames. Marinette caught glimpses of rosemary and mature pine cones bundled at the corners of the hearth, filling the air with a heady, sharp scent. He even remembered her household advice of using kitchen herbs and old pine cones to turn cold nights cozy and aromatic.

She bit her lip nervously, fearing what this… whatever this is.

What it could mean for the both of them.

“Are you cold, my lady?”

Slowly, she turned her gaze to him.

Tonight, he was dressed casually in a thick cream overshirt, black trousers, and calf-hide boots. The warmth of his shoulder seeped through hers, through the arm that rested a hairsbreadth from his, the ends of stray blonde strands tickling her skin. She was too aware of his presence, of the rise and fall of his breathing, of his contented smile when he sat close beside her, despite the available space on the plush bench.  

Within just a few days, he felt comfortable enough to be this...at ease with her.

_I trust you, Chat._

Yet, right now, it seemed that Chat trusted her more than she would even trust herself. Why wouldn’t he? Thousands of letters between them had forged their friendship strong enough to confide their deepest secrets. Their greatest insecurities. Their wildest dreams.

It was easier to divulge such intimate thoughts to a faceless, kind stranger, when the convenience of distance negated the dangers of wishful thinking, when it was safer to think that they could never be more than friends.  

This, the truth of behind their identities, changed everything. Suddenly, they had the chance to make the situation work in their favor. However, Marinette did not have the luxury to be complacent, to lower her barricades and let _this_ happen.

If this… If what they had… collapsed, everything would follow and fall to ruin.

It was her country that would suffer the greater consequences, not his. Aelurus could survive without Adarnian resources. Adarna would fight tooth and nail to survive, but they could easily be annexed or conquered by other countries, leaving her people lost.     

Deep in her heart, Marinette had no personal objection to his winning her hand in the end, if he asked.

But Chat---Adrien---needed to know that she would only give in if assured her terms would be met.

“I’m alright.” Marinette responded, breaking their eye contact. She could discern the flecks of pyrite-gold that blended with his green irises; they made her chest constrict. That was dangerous, she thought, her not even having the courage to move away. “It’s colder at home. I can handle a bit of chill.”

“Here.”

He offered her a warm cup of apple cider, tilting his face to give her a lopsided smile.

She took the drink, but settled it in front of her empty plate, inhaling deeply.

“Chat?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“I have to leave.”

“I know. Don’t worry.” He nodded then stared at the crackling fireplace as well. “I’ll provide updates once I’ve found your sister.”

“Of course.”

She could see his hands twisting in between his open thighs as he leaned forward, while her own hands rubbed at her elbows, trying to ward away chill that she didn't feel. They both avoided each other's stolen glances, letting the quiet condense until she could no longer bear the tension.  

Marinette needed to clear the air before she returned home.

“Chat.”

He slowly straightened his spine, before his whole body gradually twisted to her, giving her his full attention. “Yes, Coccinelle?”

“I think,” Her throat tightened. “We should tone it down. The flirting. Our proximity. _This._ ”

She felt the cords of muscles in the arm beside her coil impossibly tighter. “I thought you didn’t mind, my lady.”

“We could write anything we want back then.” Her hands gripped her skirts on her lap. “But there are little consequences involved when we hide behind false names. We now have more at stake here, Your Highness.”

Now his entire body felt rigid. His breathing stilled.

"Maybe I could be more measured in expressing my excitement for finally meeting one I've matched wits with for so long,” he murmured. “But where would that bring me? I have longed to hear your voice for years, longed to determine what shade of blue your eyes truly are..."

Mari goggled at him, her mouth drying quickly, trying to disregard the burst of warmth that bloomed on her cheeks.The longer she did, the more earnest he became until his green eyes glazed to jade. It might have been uncertainty she saw that glanced across his perfectly proportioned features, but it was gone too quickly for her to ascertain.

“Your Highness,” she asserted with the formal address again. “I think...we, we should...“

May Tikki bless her spots, this was harder than she thought.

“...come to terms with the fact that we're very attracted to each other.”

There. That was a bit detached. A cool evaluation of the situation at hand.

A huff, then his lips quivered, trying not to laugh. “You mean yourself, My Lady?”

“I mean _you_ , as well, _chaton_.” She rolled her eyes, relieved at how easily he accepted it. “Alya and your bard are having a field day at our expense---any idiot can realize we're attracted to each other.”

If Marinette wasn’t having such a hard time keeping herself under control, she would’ve wiped off the smugness of his cat-like smile with a kiss, bolt away to Adarna, and leave him alone in the dust.

“But I mean that, by acknowledging it,” she carefully said instead with a neutral expression. “We should also be careful not to cross lines.”

Chat beamed innocently with a hopeful excitement she found exasperating.

“We can get married by the end of the day tomorrow, my Lady. Your honor--”

“ _That_ is exactly the sort of impulsive thinking-- _or lack thereof!_ \---that caused this mess!” Marinette pointed out, her voice rising, not noticing she was already speaking bilingually. “Look at what our older--supposedly, but evidently _not_ wiser--siblings did. Like always, they left us all alone to deal with the repercussions of their actions. I don't know what will happen to Bri, or _that asshole_ you call brother. But right now, we're the _only_ ones left.

“It behooves us, Prince,” she finished with a fierce glare, “to ensure we do our duties to our kingdoms.”

“What does that mean, Princess?” His voice was ice, striking her mind clean of retorts. “In practical terms?”

Marinette thrummed with aggravation and slammed a fist on the table.

“Don't be like this, _Chat!_ You have to understand!”

“But I'm afraid I'm not any clearer on where we stand,” he admitted, shoulders relaxing despite his professed confusion. “I admit that I've avoided the obvious for fear of your response. But as expected of you, Ladybug,” His lips curled to a rueful smile. “You've taken the bull by the horns. And I don't have an answer for you. Frankly, I'm not sure what your question is.”

“I...” Marinette blinked furiously and stubbornly set her chin up. “I think we need to regroup. I think we need to reexamine what this Union was supposed to accomplish for both our kingdoms. And what it would mean for us, as individuals, with and without our respective titles.”

“It might be a little premature to point out that I'm not the martyr type, my lady,” he cut in sharply.

 “Neither am I!”

 She quickly stood up, almost sending their cups tumbling off the table.

“Neither am I, Chat. Adrien. So _please_ ,” she begged, her gaze on the floor, the silk of her skirts creasing at how hard she clutched them. “Don't make this any more challenging than it already is. I don't want us to lose control of this thing we have, that we'd feel the only option left for us is abdication and elopement.”

Adrien stood up as well, his towering height covering her under his silhouette. The fire crackled, filling the gaping silence. They stood an arm’s length apart, but Marinette felt like they just built a mile-long barricade within that small space.   

“You still haven't asked your question, my lady.”

He swallowed, as if to brace himself, meeting her determined gaze.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make sure the existing plans for the Union are rock solid, with backup plans. I need your help in making sure the appropriate laws, agreements, and infrastructure are prepared even prior and leading to the Union.” She jutted her lip, brows furrowed. “I need you to fight for your kingdom's best interests, as I _sure as hell_ would mine.”

Chat slanted his head in confusion, eyes narrowed.

“Wasn't that what we're doing, my lady?”

“No. You were using everything in your arsenal to _woo_ me, my lord.” She shook her head harshly, her entire body now trembling. “And, and it's---”

Addling her mind? Frightening her at how she wanted to forsake everything just for him?

Ladybug fancied herself infatuated---in love even, dare she admit it--with Chat Noir. And Marinette... damn her, but how could anyone possibly dislike a person like Adrien Agreste?  
  
What she didn't expect was how much she would come to want him, the name and face quickly melding with the alias and the voice, a real, tangible person within her grasp.  
  
It hurt so much that she had to do this, damn her burning eyes, that she had to push him away...

“Don't--”  

Marinette once again found herself pressed against him, his palms cradling the rise of her cheeks.

“Don’t fly away, Ladybug.”

He breathed against her, to where she could savor the scent of the candied apples they last shared. It made her heady with want. Her eyes dropped to his lips, but she shuddered and pulled away from him.

Then startled, he withdrew himself, as if finally coming to his senses.  

“I’m sorry, I thought--” He bit his lip, suddenly skittish. “I promised to stop.”

Chat moved away further, but she pulled him back by both of his wrists.

“Don't do that either!” Marinette rebuked. “I said stop flirting! Not leave me!”

“I think at this point,” He entangled one of his hands with hers with a wistful smile. “It's either all or nothing.”

In frustration, Mari picked up a piece of cold bread and threw it at his disgustingly pretty face.

Adrien managed to catch it, his eyes widening in astonishment.

Then he howled with laughter, loud enough that it echoed down the hall, to the nearby corridors.

“Stay still and let me hit you. I swear I’ve been wanting to do that to an Agreste.”

He snickered, his thumb rubbing the insides of her wrist.

“I am not my brother, my lady.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes the way he would never get tired of.

“I might have noticed, _chaton_.”

A beat.

“You won't find an iron fist beneath a velvet veneer. If you ask me something, I might not be able to resist. So if you need me to stop courting you, say so. Now. And I...”

Adrien promised with a grave frown, eyes solemn before he closed them.

“...I will comply.”

“Then, stop.” Marinette said simply without any hesitation. “Stop courting me then.”

Oh, how her heart twisted into knots when he knit his brows together, the way he slowly pulled away with closed eyes. She saw the smallest quiver at the edges of his jaw, the way he fought not to show his disappointment.

Marinette realized then how much she enjoyed teasing this silly kitty. Teasing _her_ kitty.

“Stop courting me until you make things official.”

“What?” Bright green eyes blinked open in surprise. “My lady?”

She raised her one finger before him and tapped on his nose.

“A formal inquiry with the Adarnian throne.”

Said finger then pushed on his nose, distancing him from her face.

“A year-long courtship, at least, with chaperones present for every meeting.”  

She crossed her arms across her chest, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“A proper betrothal document ratified by both our courts.”

“The works?” Chat grinned.

“I shall accept nothing less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **notes :**  
>  \- we did warn you that this is self-indulgent.  
> \- the wonderful [caprette](http://caprette.tumblr.com/) did sketches for the bbs! : [[LINK](http://caprette.tumblr.com/post/155532627053/salutations-the-first-part-of-a-study-of)]  
> \- thank you for reading!  
> \- see you in book two!


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